


Leaving

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Trans Patrick Stump, calm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: Pete’s about to move away, so he and Patrick have one last conversation in their childhood tree house.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 4





	Leaving

**Author's Note:**

> I WRITE LIKE A NINE YEAR OLD. WHY DO YOU GUYS LIKE ME?!

“I... I can’t do this without you,” Patrick whispered, standing chest-to-chest with Pete. His back was against the wall of their tree house. Pete murmured indecipherably as he continued to kiss Patrick’s neck, leaving light marks. Patrick closed his eyes and curled his fingers around Pete’s. 

Pete kissed his way up to Patrick’s ear. “You have to do it alone. You were born without me next to you, and you did just fine.” He smiled, chewing on the earlobe. “Just find a way to replace me.” 

Patrick choked out a sob. “I can’t replace you. You’ve been here too long,” he tugged at Pete’s waist. Usually when they made out, it was because they didn’t want to have any emotions. Now, Patrick only wanted emotions. “Hold me,” he whispered. 

“I got you,” Pete breathed, sliding his hands between Patrick’s back and the wall. Patrick melted into Pete’s arms. His hands went to his lover’s shoulders, fingers twitching just to touch the fuzz on the nape of Pete's neck. “You okay?” Pete asked. 

Patrick shook his head. “I’d be better if you didn’t move all the time. I just want to be your neighbor or something.” 

Pete hummed as his tongue grazed Patrick’s throat. “You’re like Mister Rogers. You sing like him, too.” He sucked lovingly on the younger boy’s Adam’s apple. “God... your skin.” 

Patrick whined desperately. “P-Pete...” 

“Pete what? What do you want, baby? Anything you need. I can give you anything you need.” Pete pressed Patrick further against the wall. Patrick whimpered. He closed his eyes and forced Pete’s mouth onto his own, examining closely with his tongue. 

“P-Pete... just do something. Don’t let me cry in front of you.” Patrick pulled back and bit his lip. Tears were in his eyes. “I don’t want to feel anything. I don’t want to cry.” 

Pete sighed, “Maybe the reason you should talk about your feelings is because you don’t want to feel them.” He held Patrick close, but didn’t do anything else. 

Patrick shivered. “Now isn’t the time for that bullcrap. Just... forget I said anything. Kiss me, please!” He tugged at the collar of Pete’s shirt. 

Pete bit his lip. “I can give you anything you want — anything you need — if you open up. I board my plane tomorrow morning, so anything you want to say should be said here.” 

Patrick shivered. “N-No... it’s stupid.” 

Pete huffed. “Nothing you could ever say is stupid. You’re like Jesus: people are dying to write down anything and everything you say.” 

Patrick whimpered and put Pete’s hand on his chest. “You feel that?” he said. 

Pete nodded. 

“Well, Pete, that’s a chest binder.” 

Pete’s expression didn’t change. “I know,” he said. “I’ve known for a long time. I just didn’t make a big deal out of it, cos like... y’know?” He chuckled and kissed Patrick’s chest. “It doesn’t matter who you were when you were born; I’ve only known you as you are now.” He tugged at Patrick’s shirt and pulled it over his head. Patrick was now standing in front of him, wearing jeans, a binder, and a trucker cap.

”Pete,” Patrick protested, covering his chest with his arms. “You’re being impulsive.” 

“Is it impulsive if I’ve wanted this for a long time?” Pete trailed his hands down the front. “It’s so flat,” he marveled.

Patrick blushed and held onto Pete’s wrists. “Y-You probably want to see what’s under, right?” He bit his lip and stared at the floor of the treehouse. “Cause that’s... that’s what’s on your mind.” 

Pete’s eyes softened. “N-No, Patrick. I don’t want... is... wh-what? Are you seriously–? Why...” He stammered, putting his hand on Patrick’s face. “Do you feel used?” 

Patrick shook his head. “No,” he lied, “I just... I’ve had a few incidents in the past where people maybe sort of fetishized me. It’s alright, though. I have you, now, and you’d never do that. Well... I guess I _won’t_ have you in a few hours. When you... when you leave for Europe.” 

“Shh, baby. Don’t think about that.” 

“B-But–“ 

“No,” Pete murmured, “‘S too hard to think about.” 

“Well, maybe the reason you should think about it is because you don’t want to.” Patrick smiled half heartedly. “I love you.” 

Pete kissed him, groaning hungrily. “You’re so hot when you use my words against me. Kiss me til I can’t breathe, and then give me life again. Please please please... I don’t know what’s coming over me. I just need you and I’m so scared to leave you behind.” 

Patrick closed his eyes and kissed back. “Looks like _someone_ wants to talk about his feelings.” He pulled off Pete’s shirt and threw it on the ground. “So pretty,” he licked his lips. “What’s that tattoo for?” He traced his fingers along Pete’s necklace of thorns.

Pete hummed and looked down at it. “That’s just, uh... I just thought it’d be hot.” 

Patrick dragged his tongue across it. “It is...” he moaned, “don’t get it surgically removed.” He grabbed Pete’s hips, sliding his hands up and down the sides as he and Pete remade lip lock. 

“Y-You’re beautiful...” Pete groaned. “Wanna... wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Patrick slipped his hands in Pete’s pockets, reaching over to do some dirty stuff. I don’t like writing “below-the-waist” fic, so I’m just going to say he did some dirty stuff to Pete through the pockets of the older boy’s ripped jeans.

“Why don’t you just reach in and do it there instead of using my pockets?” Pete kissed the shell of his ear. Suddenly, he jerked, gasping and gripping Patrick’s waist tighter. “N-N-Nevermind. This is amazing.” 

Patrick lessened his pressure. “Now you know what happens when you ask stupid questions. I’m doing it from here because I don’t want dirty hands.” 

Pete sighed, nodding.”O-Okay. How’d you know I wasn’t wearing underwear?” 

Patrick applied a ton of pressure again, making Pete squeal with pain and pleasure. “You never wear it, and I thought I said no stupid questions!” 

Pete widened his eyes. Patrick could be really dominant if he tried. “Y-Yes, sir,” he said. 

Patrick sighed and kissed him. “Don’t call me sir. Just don’t ask stupid questions and enjoy your last night with me.” 

“C-Can we cuddle after this? Hold me all night and whisper in my ear?” Pete held back tears. Patrick stopped touching him, noticing the pain in his boyfriend’s eyes. He led him over to the little treehouse mattress, kissing him gently on the knuckles. They laid down together, squished side-by-side. They couldn’t take their eyes off each other. 

Patrick leaned over to whisper in Pete’s ear, just like he was asked to. Pete shivered at what he said. 

“Baby...” murmured Patrick, “I don’t want you to leave for Europe. I’d pin you down on this bed forever if it meant you’d stay, and I’d pay you back for the tickets. It doesn’t work that way, though. I actually have to let you go. I’ll love watching you walk away, if you catch my drift,” Patrick reached down to pinch Pete’s rear. Pete smiled and snuggled closer. 

Patrick kissed his cheekbone and continued, “You’ll call me, and you’ll write me, and we’ll do what we can. Skype, maybe.” 

Pete nodded, “I’ll Skype you every day. It’ll be like I never left.” 

Patrick kept whispering. “Except that I won’t get to feel your warm, rough bassist hands all over my thighs and chest. You won’t get to touch my back, pressing down on me as you hover from behind, grinding softly against me.” 

Pete chuckled. “Extra points for descriptive language. But seriously... I’m gonna miss that. Why did you come out to me as trans when we’ve been getting sexy together for an entire year?” 

“I thought my packer fooled you.” 

“At first, but then it tasted really weird. Plasticlike. I didn’t say anything, since I wanted _you_ to come out when _you_ were ready.” 

Patrick blushed. “And I came out at the least convenient time.” 

Pete kissed his hair. “Don’t judge it. Are we done whispering?” 

“No. Well, yes, but I talk in my sleep.” 

“I know. Can I poke you? Just like–“ Pete demonstrated by poking Patrick in the stomach, then face, then throat. Patrick protested, but gave in. Pete got tired, though, and eventually fell asleep with his hand “poking” Patrick’s crotch. It wasn’t the ideal way to spend their last night together, but it’d be okay. They’d’ve done things differently if technology didn’t exist. 

**Author's Note:**

> Clean comments. My girlfriend’s texting just started working again after a full month of disconnection, and apparently she didn’t dump me. This makes me so happy because she’s the only girl I’ve ever had romantic feelings for, and if it wasn’t for her, I’d be gay. And I don’t want to have to tell my parents that, nor do I want to stop screaming, “I’m not gay!” at my brother each time he calls me a “gaytarist.” This is amazing news to me, however stupid it sounds to you.pocsu


End file.
